Johnlock OneShots
by Pixie611
Summary: A collection of Johnlock stories that have no real plot line and stuff... Will mostly be M rated.. But some will be T for fluffy stories and case stories... Its just what mood im in when I go to write (:


**Facetime - Useful Phone Feature  
(Johnlock - A little graphic - PWP)**

John felt his phone buzz in his trouser pocket. Glancing around himself, he made sure no one was looking before opening the text message under the table. The woman to his left glared at him as the phone illuminated the underside of the table around him and the strangers on either side of him.

_Facetime. Now. Important. SH_

The text read. John sighed quietly, glaring irritably at the _iPhone _Sherlock had purchased for him a few weeks back.

_In a conference meeting, you know that. Do you need help with a case? _

He replied and then turned the phone upside down on his lap.

The reply was near instantaneous.

_No case. Very important. Need to show you something you might find interesting.. Please? _

John raised his eyebrows, Sherlock only said 'please' if he really wanted something. It was only out of curiosity that he agreed,

_Will have to be quick. Have my phone under the table. No camera for me. No sound either._

Another instantaneous reply,

_Deal._

His phone vibrated again as the Facetime request came through. The woman next to him tutted again as he clicked answer and muted the sound. John took a gulp of water from the cup on the table in front of him while the phone loaded and connected.

When the picture cleared, John had to make sure he didn't spurt his water across the room. He clamped his hand over his mouth and pushed the screen between his legs out of the prying eyes of the tutting woman, who was frowning disapprovingly at him.

He wiped his mouth on the back of the his grey jumper and whispered 'sorry' to the woman, who 'uh-huh'-ed him. Glancing either side of him to make sure the tutting woman and the smartly dressed man to his left weren't looking, he slowly slid the phone from between his legs.

Sherlock had obviously propped his phone on the kitchen counter and was sitting on the counter top too, naked with his legs out stretched. He was stroking his cock slowly not looking at the camera. From the way his cheeks were hollowed and his adams apple was bobbing up and down, John could tell that Sherlock was, at least, moaning softly.

Knowing from past experience, John had to restrain himself from not turning up the sound and letting the entire room of snobby medical big-shots hear his favourite sound. Sherlock at the point, or near-point, of pleasure.

Sherlock, silently, opened his mouth. Obviously very close to climax. Had the sound been on, John was sure the detective would be panting as he increased the speed of his stroking to quick jerks.

To his right the woman sighed dramatically, tutted with obvious irritation and shifted her chair closer to the person to her right. John looked at her, suddenly embarrassed that he'd forgotten where he was. He ended the Facetime connection and tucked his phone back between his legs, noting that his pants were considerably tighter that they had been minutes before.

His phone vibrated between his legs again a few minutes later. Making sure there was definitely no one looking, and cupping the screen with his hands anyway, he read the text message. Which was accompanied by two pictures.

_Remembered the night before you left for Cardiff. Couldn't help it. _

Taking a deep breath, John opened the first was a close up of the bottom half of Sherlock's face, covered in his own cum. John had to bite his lip. What he would give to be able to lick that off. He took another deep breath and opened the second picture, it was a close up of the black ceramic kitchen counter. It was splattered by yet more of Sherlock's cum. John bit his lip harder, his pants tightening that little more.

Obviously seeing that John had opened the pictures, Sherlock sent his last message,

_Wish it was yours. Have warned Ms H, she's seeing her sister till tomorrow night. It takes 4 hours to get back from Cardiff. You have 4 and a half hours, or it's an abstinent day per 10 minutes you're late. __  
__Chop, chop John. SH_

John immediately pretended to check his watch, nodded, packed away his brief case and left the meeting room.


End file.
